Maid in America
by Bunee11
Summary: After losing in a game of Poker to America, the stubborn nation known as Britain decides to challenge his former colony to a game of Blackjack and just the same got his arse handed back to him. As a result, he finds himself a slave at the younger's home. As the days go by, Britain finds it hard to deal with America's bratty ways and rebels, but punishment awaits the naughty maid ;9
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: This story contains BoyxBoy, Smut, Kinks, S&M, and Explicit Language. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (i wish i did) nor do i own the cover pic. I found it on google. ^^**

Dear Diary,

Today is the day I officially leave the comfort of my home and enter the depths of Hell to serve the very Devil himself. At times like this I like to look back on my idiotic mistakes and wonder how in the bloody hell I got myself into these messes. Why can't I ever learn? Why must I be so prideful and stubborn? For once in my life, why can't I just accept things for how they are? ….Impossible. If there's one thing I dislike more than backing down, it's getting my arse handed to me. I've always been this way. Since the beginning of time. But enough about that. I refuse to list and continue to discuss the flaws I possess. No matter how short the list may be. Carrying on. Where was I? Ah yes. Serving the Devil. It all started when frog face invited me to a good ole' game of cards. Upon my arrival, I've noticed the idiot Mario Brothers, the Spaniard, that egotistical fool Prussia, Germany, Japan and HIM were also present. And yes by HIM, I mean the Devil. I mean once you think about it. What was he even doing there? He was too young to even gamble. He can barely dress himself, let alone count. We started with a 'friendly' game of Poker and it's not good mannerisms for a gentleman to lie, so I will admit I lost quite a bit. It angered me a bit—no…I'll say it. IT DOWN RIGHT PISSED ME OFF! I looked at the Devil as he wore that cocky, smug, idiotic grin on his IDIOTIC FACE! He thought he was superior just because he coincidently won a couple rounds. Then if that wasn't bad enough, the wanker had the audacity to say. "That was a good game Britain. I had fun." With that dumb grin on his face. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?! Was he insulting me? Me; The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. I had to do it. I wouldn't be able to rest for days if I let the night end with his victory. So I challenged him to a game of Blackjack. I had nothing more to wager, so we decided on a bet. If I win, he has to give up those ghastly greasy sandwiches he calls 'food' for a month. And if he was the victor (which wasn't going to happen), I'd be forced to do whatever he wished. *Sigh* I have been many things as I developed over the centuries. Knight, Angel, the Victorian Era was nice, Pirate, Sorcerer, a Gentleman, I even went through that punk faze, but for the first time I, The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland will be a 'Maid'.

May strength be with me thru these wretched times,

_Sincerely, England_

* * *

England stood paralyzed in front of the large yet cozy looking 2 story home before him. His grip tightened on the handle of his suit case to the point where his knuckles turned a pale white. The nation bit into his lower slightly chapped lip as his mind began to race in a way where he couldn't keep up. England has visited this house countless times. He knew it inside and out like the back of his hand. He remembered the parties he attended here and childish bickering between himself and other nations that always seemed to occur, but today it all seemed different. The Brit took a deep breath. There was no point in just standing on the doorstep like a fool. Nevertheless, you could call England a lot of things, but one thing he certainly was, was a man of his word. With the little strength he managed to muster up and his heart in his throat, the man ran the doorbell. His eyes widened at the sound. 'Calm yourself England', he repeated in his head. 'What is there to be afraid of?' England became alert as the door slowly began to creak open and he was met with those sinfully dazzling baby blue eyes. But that wasn't all…the stubborn man's eyes traveled lower and he noticed a chiseled toned chest, hard abs, biceps that could choke out an elephant maybe. All glistening in a sheen of sweat. 'Oh my…' he whispered, his tone so low it slipped past his host. England gulped nervously, his mouth became slightly ajar.

"Yo. Dude. Are you going to come inside or what?" America questioned in his usually cheeky tone of voice.

A light blush painted England's cheeks after he managed to snap out of his daze. The elder nation rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside. "Would it kill you to dress properly before answering the door? I feel as though, I've lost part of my eye sight."

"Yeah. Yeah." America said with the roll of his eyes. "I was working out when you came and I didn't want to keep 'your highness' waiting. Lemme take a quick shower, then I'll explain the rules and junk."

England set his things down in the foyer before taking a quick look at his surroundings. He noticed there's been some changes since his last visit. "I see you've done a bit of renovation."

"Yeah. After a century, looking at the same thing over and over gets tiring. Change is nice every once in a while. Canada did the living room. Japan designed the kitchen and we also did a bit of upstairs. It came out nice actually."

"Is that so?" England questioned as he continued to admire the décor.

America let out his signature laugh, before making his way upstairs. "Yeah. It is so. I'll be back. Watch some TV or something. The remotes' on the coffee table." England watched his former underling soon disappear out of sight. "And stay out of the liquor cabinet!" America yelled. Red consumed England's face in complete embarrassment as he began mumbling silent curses to himself.

"Arsehole. Telling me what to do. Like I'm a bloody infant." The man huffed while he resumed his exploration of America's home. "I'll do whatever damn well I please." He then took in the fireplace positioned at the far right of the room. The designer future that were placed in the middle of the living room. England threw himself in one of the chairs and sighed in utter content. It was more comfortable than it appeared. Then again, America did say what's-his-name designed the living area. "It's too quiet and I doubt America has any literature above a grade school level to read. Maybe I should waste time with the tele." England grabbed the remote from the coffee table and pointed it in front of him, only to discover nothing was there. "What the hell? There's nothing but a blank wall." He gazed around in confusion, but nothing that even remotely resembled a television set could be found. The nation groaned in frustration and tossed the device on the far side of the couch, before snatching up a magazine nearby. Unaware, his action triggered the blank wall to separate and in its place emerged a 150in plasma TV. The electronic automatically shut on.

"_Ah~~ Yea. Fuck me!"_

"What the hell?!" England shouted in a flustered panic as he turned and saw a man viciously fucking a woman on all fours in HD on the television that wasn't there 2 minutes ago. "Oh Gods." The man's face lit up in embarrassment as he quickly grabbed the remote and scanned it for the appropriate button. "W-What do I press?" he questioned himself as his head began to spin from looking at the outrageous amount of buttons on the device.

"_More. More. Fuck me more. Make me your little slut. Ah~~ Yea. Like that. I want it!" _

Not knowing what else to do, England began pushing random buttons in hopes the lewd scene before him would disappear, but to his dismay one of the buttons was the volume increase. The elder nation dropped the remote as the sound of wet skin on skin and wanton screams and moans encircled him. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead in utter nervousness. He just wanted it to go away, but before he could attempt ridding of the filth again, the remote was pulled from his hand and the TV was shut off, leaving him in silence once more.

"Ha. Perverted old man. Isn't it too early to be getting freaky?" laughed America who was now dressed in a wife beater and sweat pants. This was it. If England suffered any kind of humiliation, this had to be the worse. Face beet red and total speechless and flustered, England gazed up at his former underling in shock. "Woo hoo. Cat got your tongue?" America questioned while playfully waving his hand in England's face, only for it to get swatted away "Ow."

"Get that filthy thing away from me! A-And what kind of person-no man watches such shameless conduct and then leaves it out for anyone to see!"

"Dude, chill. It was just a bit of porn. No big deal."

"No big deal?!"

"Did you go into the liquor cabinet, 'cause you're acting bitchier than usual and not in a hot way." America asked bluntly, which caused England's face to become redder if possible. His nostrils flared in anger as his thick eyebrows twitched.

"I…I beg your pardon? What did you just say to me, you prat?!"

America just stared at the smaller man with a smile on his face. "Anyway, lemme show you your responsibilities ya lil free loader."

"Don't ignore-fine whatever." England sighed. He knew there was no point in arguing with the guy, it'd just end in another unwanted headache. "Lead the way."

"All right!~~ Follow me."

England gulped as he couldn't help but stare like a horny school girl at America's broad and firm muscled back. Dammit all. All the shirts he could have worn and he chose something that fit his Godly figure just right. England hated it. He hated the mixed emotions he felt around his former colony. That's why he preferred to stay away. He'd never admit it, but England's worst fear is America coming to hate him. America was usually tolerate of most things and people, well that's how he appeared, but even the nicest person can tolerate so much. In reality, England had no idea how America felt about him. Where did he fit in the young nation's life? Was he a friend, former boss, or maybe a mere nuisance? England's eyes lowered floor ward as he yet again became lost in his own insecurities.

"This is the kitchen!" America shouted happily. "You're forbidden to go anywhere near the stove or microwave~~"

"Why?" England questioned with a scowl.

America simply laughed with his hands on his hips. "Oh my cute lil Iggy. You know why." England's heart skipped a beat after being called cute. Has America ever done that before? No. It's not like he meant anything by it. It was just harmless teasing. No need to get embarrassed. "I do expect you to make me a cup of coffee, every morning or when I'm in the mood for one. France got me this new kick ass frapp machine from his place. I'll show you how to use it later. Moving on." The two then made their way upstairs. "This is the laundry room. I wear a lot of shit and it gets dirty pretty fast. So have fun. The broom closet is right next to it. There you can find the vacuum and junk. My office is just down there. It's a bit messy, so uhh yeah. Oh and before I forget where's the luggage you brought?"

"Eh? It's downstairs in the foyer. Why?"

"Oh yeah. You can throw that shit away." America ordered with a yawn while walking further down the hall, leaving a confused Englishman behind. "Come on."

"Umm. Pardon me. But you said I didn't need my belongings and to throw them away?" England said with a forced smile, trying his best to stay in control.

"Yep. That's right. Well you can keep your personal items, like your old man diapers. Just throw away your clothes."

"I don't wear diapers. I am perfectly capable of getting to and from the loo on my own." England spat through clenched teeth.

"Pfft. Yeah I bet. Anyway, I bought you new clothes plus the uniform you'll be wearing so you don't have to worry about any of that stuff."

The Brit couldn't help but let a light blush creep on his cheeks. America actually bought him something? Not just something, but an entire wardrobe. The smaller male played with his fingers as his emerald green eyes darted from America to the wall. "Why…that was mighty nice of you to take me into consideration like that. I appreciate it."

"Huh? Oh yeah. No problem. Hahaha! I wouldn't be the hero that I am, if I didn't do simple things like that. I was gonna save it for last, but I guess since you already know. Do you want to see your room?"

"M-My room?"

With a smirk, America ran up to the smaller man and stood behind him, before covering his eyes and leading him in the right direction. "You're gonna love it. I even got some things from Japan and tips from Hungary."

"Oh my. Wait. Since when did you start speaking to Hungary?"

"Oh uhh. The other day while I was chilling at Japan's place, she was there and we just sorta clicked ya know." England pouted at America's words. He already knew the lad was close with Japan, but Hungary was another thing. It was even possible that he was in fact jealous. He knew it was childish, but he couldn't help himself. "Here!" America announced while opening the door and stepping inside. "Ok. One. Two. Three." The younger nation then released his elder and waited for a reaction.

England blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden dim lights. His breathing ceased and his eyes widened in shock as he gazed at the bed centered in the middle of the room. It was in the shape of a heart and the blanket was the British flag merged with the American one. Above the bed, on the ceiling was a huge mirror. The walls were painted a passionate red, but you could barely tell with the lighting. Against the wall, was a hanger aligned with different what appeared to be costumes and right next to it a video camera? Still in shock, England stumbled into the room a bit more and saw a beautiful elegant sapphire blue French maid 2 piece lying on the bed. He picked up the delicate top and analyzed the expensive fabric.

"W-What is all this?" he asked in confusion.

America let another chuckle fall from his lips. "Your-well OUR room. Ever since you lost that bet, I thought I'd take full advantage. Can't let this slip past me." The man grabbed a collar with the nametag 'Iggy' from his dresser drawer and gently latched the pet accessory around the smaller's neck while he was lost in his own bewilderment. "There. Now doesn't my little Iggy pie look cute?"

England gasped as a pair of strong arms wrapped around his mid-section, pulling him back into an embrace against a toned chest. "A-Ameri—ah~" he moaned gently as a slick tongue began to mercilessly tease his ear, followed by the nipping of teeth. "S-Stop." England ordered, in what he hoped to be in an aggressive tone. America responded by throwing the nation into the soft sheets (without much effort). "W-Wait!" England teared in embarrassment as he watched while the taller man then spread his thighs, before sinking between them. Showering his face and neck with rough yet passionate sloppy kisses and bites.

"You're wearing too much clothes." America groaned as he began grinding himself against the whimpering beauty below him, the aching heat in his groin became unbearable. He was desperate for more friction. This wasn't enough. The man pulled back for a brief moment to rip away England's vest and dress shirt, causing buttons to fly in every direction. "So fucking hot." America licked his lips at the sight of his mentor's flustered, naughty appearance. He looked absolutely edible.

"A-America..oh~ S-Stop. It..you blood—ah~ GIT!" In his vulgar and needy state, England managed to snap himself back together for a mere second. Long enough to knee the disrespectful lad where it hurt the most. America howled in pain and rolled over in a state of shock while holding onto his now injured jewels. "N-Now I warned you. I-I'm not some h-harlot you took off the streets and can just take home for a nice romp in the sack." The Brit gathered up the pieces of his destroyed clothing and headed towards the door in total embarrassment and a little bit turned on (or a lot).

"Y-You are so going to regret that." America seethed through his teeth as he tried his best to make the pain stop.

England turned to face his victim after opening the door, a devious smirk on his plump lips. "Oh. You frighten me love." He then laughed and closed the door before him. "Ta. Ta."

* * *

**Hello~~. This is actually my very first Hetalia fanfic and I am actually excited about it. I ship multiple couples in Hetalia so i kept debating which one I should do first and it was a tie between USUK and Spamano and I couldn't control myself and eventually did the infamous USUK. I would really appreciate comments and honest reviews of what you guys think. I want to improve as much as possible. I will also write about other couples like Spamano and Gerita in the future, Anyway thanks for reading. Ciao~~ LOL**


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Hero Journal,

Hello!~~ It's me again, the one and only America! Something wicked awesome happened today. After England lost that game of Blackjack, he's now forced under contract to do whatever I say. Cool Right?! Ah~ I can imagine it now, I'll wake up in the morning and see his beautiful sleeping face. He'll then open those gorgeous green eyes and blush. He'll be all embarrassed and shy cause I was watching him. "Oh Alfie, don't watch me when I sleep, you hunk you." Then we'll totally make out and get freaky. Well that's how things are going to be eventually. Earlier today I sorta did something that was uncool of a hero like me. Iggy just looked so cute in his new collar and he had the most adorable look on his face. I was weak I couldn't help myself (TT~TT) So while he was caught off guard, I…sorta, kinda held him down on the bed and molested him. God for an amazing hero, I can be so stupid dude. I gotta find a way to make it up to him, but at the same time I can't show him how weak I am. Iggy obviously wants a strong, confident, mature and brave guy. I can totally be all those things! If he gave me the chance…but he always looks at me as though I'm a kid. He has to realize I'm not one of his colonies anymore. I'm my own country and I've been doing great on my own. I went through so much, so I can emerge out of his shadow and stand by his side as equals. I gotta do something. But what? This is so hard. And I don't think I can take another blow to the junk like that. I can still taste blood. Anyway. I'll think of something. A hero like me can't afford to give up, especially when it comes to love. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

Wish me luck ;9

America!

* * *

England gently stirred in his sleep as a stream of light managed to penetrate the dark, yet comfortable room in which he slept. The elder nation, snuggled tighter under the warm blankets, enjoying the way the fabric felt on his nude body. England usually didn't get into the habit of doing this, but since America so 'kindly' threw his clothes away. It was either sleep bare or wear the ridiculous nightwear provided to him. The answer was more than obvious. The man managed to keep his eyes open long enough to see the digital clock on the nightstand showing 8:08AM. Being the type to live day by day on a certain schedule, England groaned before throwing the blankets back with a yawn. He retired so early last night and yet he was still so exhausted. "I suppose I should bathe first, before getting started on breakfast." His eyes then wandered to the bedroom door and to his relief and disappointment it was still intact and locked just the way he left it last night. "Hmm, why did I expect something completely different? It isn't normal for the twit to give up that easily. Maybe I hit him harder than I intended. Ah well, can't take back what's already occurred." With a heavy sigh, England walked over to the vanity table and a look of disgust took over his face. There, mocking him in plain view was the sapphire blue French maid skirt and top set. "It is quite beautiful." He commented while running his slim fingers over the delicate silk. "What's the harm in entertaining the prat for a while?"

**{Meanwhile in America's dreams, the only place where good things happen to him}**

"_According to recent Intel, the Axis are planning to rendezvous on a deserted island located off the coast of Northern Europe. We already seen a glimpse of what these jerk wads are capable of so it's in our best interest if we take these scum bags down while we still have the upper hand!" _America stated in a clear and dominating tone of voice, catching his comrades full undivided attention. England who was positioned to the man's left and ironically wearing nothing but a fitting tank top that read "I 3 American Beef" and daisy dukes.

"_W-What do you recommend we do?"_ England questioned in a soft and fearful voice. The man trembled slightly as tears pooled at the corners of his beautiful emerald orbs.

America smiled at the sight before leaning down and capturing the smaller male's plump lips with his_. "Don't worry babe, your hero is here. I won't ever let those assholes lay a hand on you." _A timid blush decorated England's cheeks as his heart thumped wildly within his ribcage. France fumed with jealousy on the sidelines.

"_And how do you suggest we stop them, my sexy Américain? We cannot simply sashay up to the enemy like we're borrowing a cup of sugar. Droite? Don't get me wrong, I do not doubt your amazing skills and battle tactics. It is because of you,__Amérique we got so far in this war without many casualties."_

"_If you know all this, then why in the bloody hell are you asking such preposterous questions, frog?!" _England hissed.

America watched as the two men then squabbled and fought. Calling each other a variety of insults and curses. _"Aru~ England is too childish for America. He needs someone more mature, not to mention someone good in the kitchen and the bedroom."_ China whispered seductively as he wrapped his arms flirtatiously around America's neck. The little Asian man's tight fitted China dress ridding up his pale thighs, the closer he attempted to get to the much taller man's lips.

England instantly stopped the childish bickering with his long friend/enemy after witnessing the scene between what was his and China. He gave the Frenchman one final blow to the gut before rushing over to America's side. _"A-America…"_ China frowned and attempted to push England away, but the other man pushed right back. America laughed and easily separated the two men by holding one in each arm.

"_Now, now Iggy play nice."_ America scolded with a kiss.

"_But. But he…"_ England whimpered sweetly, strumming America's heartstrings.

America silenced the Englishman with a forceful yet passionate kiss, after taking him into his embrace. _"There's nothing to worry about. You know you'll always be my number 1, Iggy." _

"_You're too sexy for me."_ England stated as tears streamed down his pink cheeks. _"And smart and powerful. Not to mention you excel at everything you do. You have the perfect muscle to body fat ratio. It's amazing how you can eat whatever you desire and yet stay so…so you. I don't…I'm just…I can't."_ Overwhelmed by his mixed emotions, England gracefully positioned himself on the conference table and spread his legs_. "Take me. Fuck me in the way only you can, love. Show everyone that I'm yours." _America instantly drooled and took off his bomber jacket, disregarding the jealous glares pointed at Iggy and gagging sounds from France. This was so awesome. Words couldn't describe how awesome this was, but he had to play it cool. He was the hero after all and heroes always play it cool in front of the damsel. England began nibbling on his lower lip, his body anxious to be touched by the man before him. He gazed at America with lust filled eyes. _"H-Hurry, love." _

America cleared his throat, trying to recollect himself before approaching the clearly horny out of his fucking mind figure on the table. _"I'm gonna rock your body so hard, babe."_ England blushed as large hands began to explore his body. _"You're smoking hot, Iggy. I can smell the intoxicating fumes from here." _The man then leaned in for a kiss, but halted as the smell of smoke became stronger and stronger. _"Iggy. It really does smell like you're on fire."_ Suddenly the entire room filled with black smoke, slowly consuming everyone around the man. _"Holy SHIT!" _A piercing alarm then burst America's eardrums. He double-overed in pain from the sound, his teary strained eyes in search of the cause of this sudden disaster.

* * *

America awoke with a start, drenched in sweat, his body tense and on high alert as the fire alarm shook his house. "What the fuck?!" The man rushed out of his bedroom, disregarding the fact he was only in his boxer shorts and into the hallway, just in time for a thin cloud of smoke to greet him. He coughed, struggling to shield his eyes and make it safely downstairs. "IGGY!" he called desperately, worried for the elder nation's safety. "IGGY WHERE ARE YOU?!" The man made it through another coughing fit and slowly made his way towards the kitchen, which was in fact engulfed in smoke. "IGGY!" America turned to his left just in time to see a silhouette battling a small, but out of control fire on the stove top. Without hesitation, America ran to the pantry and pulled out a fire extinguisher, before rushing to the smaller man's aide. "IGGY MOVE!" he screamed before pulling the safety tab from the extinguisher and spraying the fire with the thick foam like substance. Once the fire was out, America quickly opened the kitchen windows, so the smoke could vent out.

England rushed to the oven and pulled out a pan of burned, what looked like rocks from inside. "Oh nutburgers. My scones. My hotcakes are ruined." The smaller male then pouted cutely and turned towards an out of breath America. "All because of your stupid oven."

"YOU ALMOST BURNED DOWN MY HOUSE AND ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS YOUR DISGUSTING TASTELESS FOOD?!"

England gasped in offense. "My food is not 'tasteless'. You wouldn't know gourmet if it bit you in the arse. Especially since all you eat is that-that heart attack on a bun every blasted day."

Once he regained his composure after a few necessary breaths of semi-fresh air, America turned to the man in all seriousness. "Iggy. What was the number one rule?"

England jerked his head to the side. "As if I would know. Putting that aside, what are you going to do about my burnt scones? There's nothing else edible in the fridge." The Englishman ceased his constant rambling and complaints when he noticed America's shocked and paralyzed form. "Hello? My scones, you git. Get the lead out of your arse and take me to the market, simpleton!"

"You ruined it." He mumbled in horror as he approached England in a zombie like state. Which kind of freaked him out a bit. America took the delicate silk skirt into his hand and scowled at the burn mark. "You singed it. You totally singed it." England cocked a thick eyebrow and looked in the direction America was talking about.

"Oh, I suppose I did. Ah well. Now, I'm starving, so take me to the market." England ordered with his hands on his hips while tapping his black stiletto in an impatient manner. "And what are you going to do about the kitchen? I can't work properly in these conditions. Your last oven was too complicated. I mean honestly, who needs that many dials, knobs and buttons on a kitchen appliance."

"Do you know…how much this cost?" America questioned in a mere whisper as his anger slowly began to rise with each passing second.

"Why would I care about that? Especially since you got this from the frog didn't you? You should be lucky, I'm wearing this at all. Having fabric made in that disgusting country touch my skin causes me to break out in hives."

America boiled with anger. How could England be so inconsiderate and nonchalant? He caused at least a $1,000 worth of damage and the morning wasn't even over yet. The younger nation's vision lingered towards the scorched and ruined stove. The singed cabinets and counters. Not to mention the food and batter scattered everywhere, along with random dirty cooking utensils. The kitchen, him and Japan worked so hard on, totally fucked. "Are you listening to me you bloody wanker?!" England hissed in frustration. America realized during his little inspection of the damage, England was still in fact ranting. The younger male's eyes trailed upward and saw how beautiful the French maid dress looked on his Iggy. He remembered telling France exactly how he wanted it. In his opinion, blue always looked best on England. The uniform was separated into two pieces, a tube top with white ruffles on the straps that hung on the shoulders. Designed to hug England's upper body just right. The stomach was bare for multiple reasons. Wink Wink. The skirt was short and stopped mid-thigh, but left a bit to the imagination. White ruffles also peeked from under the fabric, giving a certain fullness to the garment and right behind, a big beautiful perfectly tied bow. That was France's idea. The outfit was then completed with Hungary's special pet collar, white transparent thigh high socks and sexy black stilettos. To put it simply, England was fucking hot.

America sighed, anger ceasing to exist. Damn his hormones. Why must he always think with his dick? "Go put the casual clothes I bought for you on then we'll go buy a new stove and head out to eat. There's no way I can hook up the new stove in time. It'll be lunchtime by the time I'm done."

England scowled and rolled his eyes. "And why do I have to change?"

America frowned and England will deny that the fierce look in those blue eyes turned him on. "Are you smoking crack? You're not going out wearing that. Those clothes are for the house only." He commented in a tone stating that his word was final, but the young man should have known better. That, that tactic wouldn't work on his current 'opponent'.

"So. You want me to change for the shopping. Then when we come back change into the maid attire again?" England questioned with obvious attitude.

"It ain't rocket science. Why are you making things so difficult?" After putting the dirty dishes in the sink, America turned to see England staring at his naked body up and down. He smirked. "See something you like?" England's face turned a cherry red, causing America to burst out in a fit of laughter. "You know, I wouldn't mind a little morning sex with my coffee, but my dick kinda still hurts from the blow you gave it yesterday. Just so you know, I haven't forgotten. Between you destroying my kitchen and the 'lil stunt you pulled yesterday, your punishment is looking brutal so far." America stated with a smile.

"Oh you make me quiver." England teased sarcastically.

"Ha. You're just making things harder on yourself. Now go upstairs and change. Meet me in the foyer in 10 minutes. No later than that. The store gets crowded in the afternoons and I don't want to spend all day in the checkout line."

"Whatever." England huffed before making his way upstairs. America licked his lips at the delicious view of England's backside.

"Damn. I hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave."

**{Minutes Later}**

"Iggy! I said 10 minutes not 10 hours! Hurry up!" America shouted from the foyer. The sudden vibration in his pocket then caught his attention and the man quickly fished out the device. He grinned when he tapped the screen on his IPhone and noticed it was a text from Hungary, which was labeled as 'Head Mistress' in his contacts.

From: Head Mistress

To: Hamburger Man

Hey, you tap that sweet British meat or what darling? ;D

America snorted at the message and did a rapid reply.

From: Hamburger Man

To: Head Mistress

No. Not yet. He looks so hot in the outfit France made with the leather collar you gave me. D: I'm finding it hard to control myself. Yesterday, I sorta jumped 'em. He didn't take it well. He keeps being stubborn and actin' out. This morning he totally burned down half my kitchen. I told him I was gonna punish him good, but I think he called bullshit on my threat. What do I do H-Mama?

**{5 sec later}**

To: Hamburger Man

From: Head Mistress

Don't worry your pretty little head. He's just playing hard to get. He so wants the D. *giggles* England is what we call a Tsundere. He just acts cold and rude to hide his feelings.

**{5 more sec later}**

To: Head Mistress

From: Hamburger Man

THEN WHY IN THE FUCK DID HE KNEE ME IN THE JUNK?! I CAN'T GIVE HIM THE D IF HE BREAKS IT OFF! TT~TT (P.s I want to give him the D so bad)

**{5 more more sec later}**

To: Hamburger Man

From: Head Mistress

Hmm. I'll contact Japan and we'll be over later on tonight with a problem solver for your dilemma. Until then, play it cool. Head Mistress out. XD 3

* * *

"Alright!" America screeched in uncontrollable excitement. At that moment England walked downstairs wearing black tight leather pants, various chains hanging from both sides of the hips, a long sleeved shirt decorated entirely with the British flag with the word "NO!" in bold letters on the front, Hungary's pet collar and black combat boots with large buckles. This outfit reminded England of his punk stage and he would never admit it, but it also made him feel a bit young. Which was foolish for an old man like himself to think.

"And what are you so damned happy about?" he scowled upon arrival in the foyer.

"Oh you're ready." America smiled.

"Obviously." England blushed as he waited for America to comment on his appearance but it seemed to never come. "Who were you conversing with on the phone?" the man questioned in an attempt to hide his humiliation with a subject change and satisfy his curiosity.

"Oh no one. Just Hungary. She's coming over tonight." America laughed, obliviously to the touchy subject.

"Hungary?" England spat through his teeth as his thick eyebrows creased in anger. "Why would she be coming over tonight?"

"Ya know. To hang out and stuff. Anyway. Let's hurry. I bet the grocery store is already packed. It's going to be Hell."

England watched America walk out the front door and his mind instantly began to wander. Was there something going on with America and Hungary? And if so how long as this affair been happening? Hungary was a sweet girl but she was the last person England expected to be America's type. A sudden ache pierced England's heart as reality kicked in. But if America wants Hungary then what was all that mess about yesterday? Why did America jump him like that…maybe he did just want a good time. England shook his head, trying to rid of his negative thoughts. No. He was thinking too much. But in the end, if it's true, then England won't go down without a fight. They'll feel his wrath.

With a stern expression on his face, England marched out the door with his head held high. "I'll teach that git to play with my heart."

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**Hello~~ Sorry it took awhile to update. I get distracted easily, but i promise the next update won't take this long. Well hopefully it won't. I live a very unpredictable lifestyle. Anyways, thanks for reading. Leave a nice little review and tell me what you guys think. *pout* I would honestly love to know. Thank everyone for favoriting and following my story. I'm glad it's not complete shit. Next chapter England and America will go shopping and there will be a nice lil visit from Hungary and Japan. And the moment you've all been waiting for. YES IT WILL RAIN GLORIOUS SMUT FROM THE HEAVENS XD LOL well until next time. Bye.**


	3. Chapter 3

B/N: Sorry it took awhile. OMG! It's just finals month at my university and I rushed myself to catch up on my work and junk. I only have a few assignments left and two weeks left. So i thought "Hey why the hell not update?" Thank you guys for your patience. I hope you enjoy this one. It's a bit mushy and more on the romantic side. *hides behind America* I know I promised you smut the last chapter, but it was going to be too long. And besides who doesn't like a lil Romantic/difficult USUK? There are some song lyrics in this chapter. i **HIGHLY** recommend you read them. The song is called 'Like a Knife' by Secondhand Serenade and it reminded me of England and America during the Revolution. :3

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From the very second Arthur Kirkland emerged into this vast and mysterious world naked, cold, alone, and frightened, he quickly learned what it meant and what it took to be a survivalist. Odds were against him; always seemed to be. He was small, weak and vulnerable compared to his neighboring nations. People hunted him like an animal. They fought over him, treated him as though he were a trophy meant to be won. He was used not only by outsiders, but his 'loyal subjects'. Pain and fear were a part of his everyday life. 'Run. Fight. Run. Overcome. Run. Survive. ' No matter how much agony you must withstand, the obstacles in your path, you must live. These words circled within his mind like a never ending carousel. They haunted Arthur as he slept, as he ate, until one day while sitting on the moist grass of his rainy island home...he snapped. Power equals respect. Power equals safety. Power is freedom. As the centuries rolled by Arthur grew stronger and stronger. Soon, nations crumbled at his feet. Fear struck the hearts of those who gazed upon his flag. It was all under his control; the sea, trade, the world was his playground. No one could touch him and those who dared were exterminated. Arthur himself found it quite humorous, an island nation such as himself being feared. But what he failed to realize was how the life he worked so hard to build, his reputation, his Empire would come crashing down in a mere instant all because of a pair of blue eyes. No these weren't just any pair of blue eyes. They were the most captivating color Arthur had ever seen. If he could describe them, they would be the sky on a sunny day. No clouds would be present like at his island home. Nothing but pure blue. Untainted and beautiful. When those eyes looked his way, he was lost. What was this emotion called? Fascination? Love? Obsession? 'Whatever it is…may it stay with me forever'.

"…tain…Bri…heyyy…"

England snapped back to reality just in time to see a pair of wire framed spectacles and awkwardly puckered lips mere inches from his face. Face hot with embarrassment beyond control, the elder nation did what came natural and socked the threat right in the eye with a surprising yelp. "WHAT THE BLOODY—W-WERE YOU TRYING TO AND IN THE-FILTHY BRAT!" England screeched in a flustered manner as he cornered himself against the passenger door of America's 2012 Ford F-150.

America held his eye as his hissed through his teeth in pain. "Ah. What the fuck's your problem bro?! You almost broke Texas." With his currently one good eye, America surveyed the damage to his glasses and to his relief they were unscathed. Ha. As expected, Texas Tough!

England rolled his eyes, the blush on his face refusing to subside. "Oh, we wouldn't want that now would we? If the great United States were to lose Texas, it would surely suffer a heavy loss." The man feigned dramatically. "Half of your nations' brilliant scholars, philanthropists, all wiped out in a matter of seconds. What would you do?"

America frowned at England's brutal sarcasm and tried to ignore it and focus on the road. "ALRIGHT I GET THA POINT!" The elder man merely snickered as America grumbled to himself. "Ya know, you can be a real asshole sometimes. You should be honored that a hero like me wants to grace you with a lil' tongue action."

"I think I just vomited in my mouth a bit."

"Yea. Yea." America grinned mischievously. "So, do you normally shriek like a Catholic schoolgirl when someone's trying to kiss you or~~~"

"OH SOD OFF!" England screamed in embarrassment. "Who wouldn't scream in that situation? I was seconds from being molested and possibly contracting herpes."

"WHAT?! I AM CLEAN AS A WHISTLE! BESIDES WHO ARE YOU TO TALK? FRANCE TOLD ME ALL ABOUT YOUR 'GOLDEN YEARS'. WHEN YOU USED TO SHAKE YOUR ASS DRUNK AS HELL ON STAGE AT THE ROLLING STONE'S CONCERTS!"

England's eyes widened in shock, face beet red. "W-Well. BELT UP! IT WAS THE 60'S! EVERYONE WAS DOING IT! YOU CAN'T SINGLE ME OUT!"

America let a mocking chuckle slip from his lips before stopping at a red light. "Pfft. More like everyone was doing you." He mumbled, but the comment didn't slip past the elder nation beside him. Without warning, England lunged at America in blind fury, wrapping his slim delicate fingers tightly around the male's neck. America struggled for air as his former mentor shouted vulgarities at him. The truck shook violently and the horn blared loudly, attracting cars and pedestrians nearby. A couple bruises and mishaps later, the two finally managed to pull into the parking lot of WAL*MART. Once America turned off the engine, England immediately hopped from the vehicle. "YO! Stay together." The younger shouted, ignoring the scratchiness in his now sore throat.

England stood silently and gazed up in a daze at the beautiful clear sky. As much as he hated complimenting other countries, he always thought springtime in America was exceptionally lovely. It wasn't too hot nor too cold or windy and every now and then the perfect breeze would tenderly kiss his cheeks. While the elder was lost in thought, America decided to slip his hand into England's with a cheeky grin.

"You shouldn't stand in the middle of the parking lot like that Iggy. It's dangerous." America coddled sweetly.

With a click of his tongue, England snatched his hand away before making his way to the store entrance. "Let's just get this blasted day over with. The faster we complete our chores, the faster I can get back and enjoy a nice cup of Chamomile." America just grinned and followed suit. Once inside, the Briton sighed after seeing the amount of shoppers roaming to and fro. He then looked at the endless of signs saying 'Spring Sale'. Americans sure do love their savings.

"Told you it'd be hectic. At least ya killed my stove during spring. Save me a couple bucks."

"Shut it." The elder ordered. "Damn it all. I can't seem to find an available trolley."

"There's a trick to how you get a shopping cart during these wild times of savings. Watch and learn." England watched as America waltzed up to a couple of women in tank tops and shorts. The American graced them with his blinding Hollywood grin, instantly turning them into putty. "Excuse me sexy ladies, do you mind if I take this cart off your hands?"

The girls giggled simultaneously, before one licked her perfectly glossed pink lips. "That depends. 'Mind if I take your number off ya hands cutie?"

America gave them his signature laugh. "Oh come on. Ya goin' to do me like this?"

"Number for a cart honey~~" the same girl sang.

England's fists tightened in anger. Jealousy consumed him as he watched America chat up these two women. Wait. Jealousy? No. That wasn't right. He wasn't jealous. It's just those women obviously aren't America's type and he's too much of a softie to reject them. The man gritted his teeth as one woman pressed her disgusting body against the American's. Alright that's it. The three stopped their flirting session as they saw England approaching. "So is this tart going to give you the trolley or what because we have things to do?" the elder questioned blankly.

The girl with pink lipgloss eyes instantly lit up with anger. "Who tha fuck are you calling a whore Winston Churchill?!"

America let out a nervous laugh, trying his best to calm the atmosphere before someone called security. "Haha. Oh Iggy. He's foreign. The mannerisms in England are diff ya know?"

"Then why doesn't Harry Potter over here get on his fucking broom stick and fly his ass back to Hogwarts?" the girl commented in a bratty manner.

"It amazes me how you're able to breathe and talk at the same time. Did you learn this from your day job?" England questioned. The girls gasped in unison. "You two remind me of a 'fat' Barbie."

"And that's our cue to leave." America announced while grabbing England by the hand and taking the girls' shopping cart. "Thank you ladies for the cart." England took it upon himself to give the divas one last flip of his finger as they shouted a variety of curses his way. "Iggy. Why did you so that? I'm not all proper and shit, but I am pretty sure what you did totally defies the 'gentleman code'."

"Well you dressed me up when I was at my rowdiest stage. What do you expect? I have to play the part." The smaller male pouted innocently. "Please, don't be mad at me Alfie~~."

America's body heated up like a Domino's Pizza. It took every ounce of self-control to not grab that sweet piece of British ass, drag him to the nearest dressing room in the clothing section and show him why they really put stars on his flag. If you catch my drift. America cleared his throat and wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. No. He wasn't going to fall for pet names and a bit of teasing. "Iggy." He began in a stern tone.

"Oooo. It tickles my fancy when you use the big boy voice, love." England teased seductively.

Losing it. America was slowly losing it. His mini demon was shouting in his ear. Telling him to 'Fuck self-control and tap dat ass!' No. England was totally joking. This was part of some sick boner jerking game. First he'd get him riled up and act like he wanted the D, then he'd blow it off and reject him, well Alfred F. Jones, aka America aka the greatest country in the world wasn't going to fall for sucha stupid trick. England cocked a thick eyebrow as America merely smirked before turning to push the shopping cart. "We're here for a stove, but we mind as well do some grocery shopping while we're here. You want somethin'?"

"Bookstore."

"Eh?"

"I would like to purchase a few novels if that's fine with you."

"Uh yeah. That's cool. Um there's a miniature Barnes n' Nobles here somewhere. We can go there after I get the stove and groceries. Maybe grab a couple of burgers at Micky D's." England followed America aimlessly around the crowded shopping center. Watching as the young man filled the cart with endless amount of junk food and snacks, while occasionally throwing in a few healthy choice foods. The Briton grimaced. What kind of fucked up diet was this guy on? Well whatever he was doing. It was working fabulously. "Oh yeah~~ Oreos. Gotta have my Oreos! Peanut butter or Crème filled. Which one do you like Iggy?"

England sighed. "Whichever fat arse."

America turned pale. "Hey! Don't use the—the 'F' word around me. You know it brings back bad memories."

"Memories of what? 2 weeks ago."

"YES! You wouldn't understand because you Europeans can totally stuff yourself with whatever you want and don't have to worry about calories but it's different over here—" America whined endlessly. England squeezed his temple with a sigh. He needed a drink and ASAP, but there was no way in hell America was going to buy him one. No matter how much charm he put into the request. Hey he could try.

"Hey Am—Alfie. Do you have the proper refreshments available for our guests tonight?"

America shot the smaller male a skeptical look. "Yeah. I got some Cola and Dr. P and some other junk."

"Oh dear, nothing but fizzy drinks. This will never do, love." England stated with a shake of his head.

"W-What do you mean?"

"I mean. It's more than obvious that you've matured over the years as a country, but as a person you're still a child." England explained with a sly grin.

"WHAT?! W-Who said that?"

"Oh. Just a number of chaps. Frog face, Germany…even Italy."

"What?! Me and Italy ate Papa Johns like a month ago! I mean sure that guy talks a lot, but he seemed pretty cool."

"Ah. Well looks can be deceiving." England stated with a mischievous smirk. "Tell you what. How about you leave me in charge of the beverages, while you tend to the meals."

America gave England a blank stare, before bursting into a hysterical fit of laughter. "Hahaha. Nice try. You almost had me babe. You know the rules. No alcohol. But since you want to help out so badly, you can be my sexy lil' server." The man winked, causing a slight blush to grace the Briton's cheeks. After overflowing the cart with junk food, America pushed the struggling piece of metal to the 'Household Appliance' section. A store representative instantly greeted him and took him to a variety of stoves. America touched all the dials and knobs before choosing the one that satisfied his taste.

"Great. I'll get a lift out here immediately and…"

"Thanks, bro. But it's cool." America interrupted. "I got it."

The man gave America a quizzical look, but it soon turned into utter shock and amazement as he watched the young man, easily lift the stove and hold it between his forearm and shoulder. America then waltzed over to England who wore a bored expression, ignoring the shocked and horrified looks of the fellow shoppers around him.

"After we pay for this stuff, we'll go get your book okay babe." The Englishman stayed silent and admired America's strength as he took slow and cautious steps behind him. Others were surprised by this man's inhuman strength, but not England. From the moment they met, even as an infant, naïve to the dangers of the world, America always managed to fend for himself without any problems. Heh. England remembers clearly the time he held the boy so close to himself, promising to protect him no matter what. America then jumped from his arms and raced towards a wild bison, a huge innocent smile on his face. England shouted in fear and raced after him, but became paralyzed as the small toddler grabbed the beast by the hooves and swung him in the air like it was nothing. Laughing as though he didn't have a care in the world. In that instant, England refused to admit it but he felt his heart crack.

In the checkout line, the Briton stared aimlessly at a rack of cigarette cartons as the register girl flirted with America while ringing him up. "Fags." He blurted. America looked at the Englishman. "Buy me some."

"I thought you quit years ago. Besides those things are unhealthy. You're not getting any younger Iggy, you need to take care of yourself."

England clicked his tongue, before grabbing a carton and shoving it into the American's hands. "I didn't ask for your opinion, freaky metabolism. Buy the bloody things and belt up." He then walked into the crowd.

"H-Hey. Where ya going?"

"To the blasted bookstore. Is that alright with you mummy? Why don't you just chat up your little girlfriend there and leave me be!" The man didn't give the American the time to reply and disappeared into the crowd of shoppers. Luck appeared to be on his side for once as he found himself in front of Barnes n Nobles entrance. As he walked in he saw of variety of people from kids reading comic books on the floor to adults and teens browsing. The glass door and double-paned windows seemed to block out the chaotic noise outside. It was like being in a while other world. England inhaled slowly and embraced the smell of coffee beans. He could never explain why, but being surrounded by endless amount of knowledge and creativity always calmed him down. Without hesitation, he made his way towards the 'Classic Literature' section. A section he knew the shelves would be free of those accursed vampire and werewolf books. His eyes roamed over the many titles, most were familiar. When you were over 1,000 years old, there were times when a person had to find something to entertain himself. A gentle smile graced England's soft lips as he saw something that definitely brought back memories. "Ah. _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Brontë. I remember when they first published this in the mid 1800's." Lost in the admiration of the sleek cover, England failed to notice the person in front of him. The Briton toppled back a bit after colliding into a hard chest. "Pardon me. I wasn't paying attention."

"Damn. That's a sexy accent." England looked up to see 3 guys in their early 20's. The one he bumped into began eyeing the Brit up and down, causing the smaller male to grimace. "Where ya from, baby? Australia?"

England frowned. "England. I thought it would be obvious since I'm wearing a shirt decorated with the Union Jack. Apparently not. Now, as I said before: Pardon me." The Briton pushed through the three men and attempted to make it to the register, only to be stopped by a tug on his sleeve.

"Don't be that way sexy. Let me take you out. Show ya what America has to offer." The man stated as he bit seductively on his bottom lip.

"Are you daft? I said no. Now unhand me, you simpleton before I'm forced to get impetuous."

"Come on. Just one drink. I'm practically begging." The man chuckled playfully but refusing to let go of England's arm. "I promise you'll have a good time. I'll take you to this bitchin' club downtown. It's exclusive and everything. Top shelf liquor. But on second thought, you are European. Perhaps you want to skip all that and just come back to my place." England's eyes widened, his face twisted in disgust. Insulted wasn't even close to how he felt at the moment. He watched as the jerk then proceeded to share a laugh with his friends. With ice in his veins, England tightened his fist and was about to give the creep a blow right in the kisser. "So what's it going to be darling? Shag now or shag later?" the man questioned in a distasteful, horrid British accent. THAT'S IT! But, before England could even give the wanker a taste of his fury, the man was ripped from his sight.

The man nearly shit himself after coming face to face with a very pissed off America. "How about 'never' asshole."

The three men trembled violently. "H-Hey man w-we—we were just joking around."

"If you ever touch my boyfriend again. I will fucking destroy you!" America spat through tightly clenched teeth before throwing the man away as though he were a piece of garbage. England's heart thumped wildly in his chest. He's never seen America this angry. Not since WW2. The Briton watched silently as the men gathered up their friend and retreated out the door. The smaller male held his book against his chest and watched as America turned around. He braced himself for an argument, but instead was greeted with the American's usually dorky and charming smile. "What jerks. Right Iggy."

"You would know. They are your citizens." England merely countered while making his way to the register. He looked at the woman and could tell she was a bit shaken up from the altercation. "My sincerest apologies dear. I didn't expect everything to become so heated. What do I owe you for the novel?"

The woman smiled. "I was just surprised. If you want I could call security—"

"No. That won't be necessary. The buffoon already got rid of those gits." England chuckled.

"Yeah. Sorry. Those guys stagger in every once in a while. They're actually university students and come to buy textbooks or things like that. After being hassled like that, I'd feel bad to charge you full price."

"Oh no. Don't worry about me. I'd be happy to pay. It's worth every penny."

The young woman glanced at the title of the book as England set it on the counter. "Oh _Jane Eyre_."

England cocked an eyebrow, impressed. "You're familiar with Charlotte Brontë's work?" the girl nodded with a timid blush. "Who else do you fancy?"

The girl's eyes lit up. "Oh well—" Before she could finish, America let himself be known.

"Iggy. We have to hurry and get home. The ice cream is going to melt." He whined childishly. "Plus we have to get ready. We're off schedule."

The cashier giggled again. "Such a cute couple."

England shot the girl a grim expression. "We are in no shape or form dating." The man then pulled out his wallet and produced a large bill on the counter. "I think this should suffice. Keep the change." He then turned on his heels and walked towards the exit. "Good day." America frowned but followed after. Once back at the truck, England slid into the passenger's seat, leaving the younger male to tend to the endless amount of groceries.

"Hey. You know you can like help, right?"

"Oh. An old, decrepit man like myself will only slow you down. Hop to it."

America grinned. "You know I spoil you."

England's eyelids fluttered downward at the novel in his lap. He remained silent. Nothing could be said. All he wanted was this conversation to end, before it produced unwanted memories. America just nodded his head at the silence before closing the passenger door and finished putting away the bags. After latching the stove down in the trunk, the young nation got into the driver's seat. He looked over and noticed how desperately England was trying to avoid eye contact. America started he car and made his way onto the road, at a stop light he could no longer take the silence and threw his arms in the air with a dramatic sigh. "Dammit. I totally forgot about brunch. I'm starving. ~ What about you babe? Are you hungry?" No answer. "I guess once I hook up the stove, we can cook us something good. Remember, like old times." England's body tensed instantly, but it slipped past the oblivious nation beside him. "I remember when you used to come back from your adventures on the sea and bring back toys with you. You never stayed long, but we'd make meals together in the kitchen. They always sucked but—"

Without warning, the Briton leaned forward and turned on the radio, silencing the American. A soft tune resounded throughout the vehicle. The lovely strings of the guitar made it seem as if they were in their own little world. Just the two of them. Where no one could reach. Then the chorus began:

I dream a lot, I know you say

I've got to get away.

"The world is not yours for the taking"

Is all you ever say.

I know I'm not the best for you,

But promise that you'll stay.

Cause if I watch you go,

You'll see me wasting, you'll see me wasting away

Cause today, you walked out of my life

Cause today, your words felt like a knife

I'm not living this life.

Goodbyes are meant for lonely people standing in the rain

And no matter where I go it's always pouring all the same.

These streets are filled with memories

Both perfect and in pain

And all I wanna do is love you

But I'm the only one to blame.

Cause today, you walked out of my life

Cause today, your words felt like a knife

I'm not living this life.

But what do I know, if you're leaving

All you did was stop the bleeding.

But these scars will stay forever,

These scars will stay forever

And these words they have no meaning

If we cannot find the feeling

That we held on to together

Try your hardest to remember

Stay with me,

Or watch me bleed,

I need you just to breathe.

Cause today, you walked out of my life

(Stay with me, or watch me bleed)

Cause today, your words felt like a knife

(I need you just to breathe.)

I'm not living this life

A sad expression crossed America's features after the song came to an end. His grip tightened on the steering wheel. He wanted to look in the Briton's direction but knew he couldn't. It was impossible. What kind of expression would he show? Sadness. Resentment. Indifference. Maybe it was only him who put too much thought into that song. Maybe to England, it meant nothing. It was just a song. A chuckle filled America's ears, drawing him from his train of thought. He glanced over in England's direction to see him staring out of the window, a smile on his face.

"I hate that tune. People these days…so melodramatic."

The rest of the trip home, America remained silent. He brought the groceries into the house as England sat on the couch, eating treats he had chosen for himself. After putting everything in its proper place, the American properly disposed of the old stove and set up preparations for the new one. 15 minutes into working, England appeared behind the man and watched him hammer away at something.

"How long is this going to take?" the Briton questioned bluntly.

"Awhile. I'll call you when it's done. How about you go freshin' up or somethin'. You're going to be in the way."

Silence. "Do you hate me, Alfred?"

The hammering stopped, it was soon followed by a half-hearted chuckle, but the American still refused to look back at the elder nation. "Don't be so stupid. If I hated ya, I wouldn't have invited ya over here."

"…Earlier you told that tosser I was your lover."

"Yeah. Well I was in the moment. I was just pissed off. But like you said, I aint. So don't think too much on it. Now go do what I said. You're annoying me."

England stood his ground and watched silently. He then gracefully lifted his hands and pulled his sweater from his body and let the fabric fall to the floor. Next he began working on the buttons of his leather pants. The chains at his sides clanked a bit as he shimmied from the garment, but soon he was free. The Briton lastly placed his thumbs in the elastic of his briefs and let them pool at his ankles, leaving him completely bare. He stood there, unashamed. His delicate milk white skin that was flawed with a bit of faded scars here and there due to his malicious history. A smirk graced his soft, plump lips as he gazed at the American behind shining emerald eyes.

"America." He called.

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**How did you like it? Seriously with an ending like this, there's no way in hell I'm not going to give you smut. Plus school is going to be over for me so I will have time. Comment. Please. Me love comments. Next chapter will not only be wonderfully kinky, but we will be visited by not only Hungary and Japan but a certain perverted Trio we all know and love. LOL it'll be fun. Laters. :p**


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